Over-populated yet so alone. From an ulterior frame of reference, this city reeks of pseudo motive. I witness the grand design snickering in observation, as the excessively labored transform into the immensely medicated. Functional I suppose, but to what purpose? Regurgitating cannibals express undoubted perseverance; perhaps within the recycling of our own wasted consumption lies the true meaning.
All just an alienated and jaded point of view, right? Small matters; that is how the careless expression goes. Well, I know of someone who would have greatly disagreed. Evidence of this has been documented in her secret mouth-to-ear diary. This is no interpretation, it is common physics; all safely locked away within the widowers cerebellum.
Self-pity is often the drug of choice; but once you are finished indulging, may I reflect some of her utter disappointments? So many lead to quick and easy decisions. Shall I expose how she truly felt about your relations or do you prefer a sympathetic stream of white lies? With discretion towards our abstruse journal, I chose the latter.
Well, it looks like the revolvers whirlwind has vacuumed yet another drifter. Aspired to a Russians roulette, you may remain impregnable. Her authenticity withers with me, even after the fifth fortunate click of the unspun trigger.
Impatience dominates, is it my turn yet?